a story about woe

My stomach hurts.

I start a new job June 18 for ronin advertising. I'll be doing what I do, but in a hopefully healthier, saner way. That involved an hour both ways to work. But whatever. That's why they make satellite radio and mix tapes. And an iPhone. Maybe. I mean, I think I am becoming a demographic. I want an iPhone and a new Mustang. Next thing, I'll be going after skinny blondes. Um, no. Not that.

I feel pushed and yet drawn to a new adventure of discovery. So I'm working on that. I went to therapy and the guy wanted me to pray with him. This was somewhat disconcerting. I will not be going back. I will try and do it again, but somewhere else.

Wrestling, who the fuck knows. That's what I say. I'm in Detroit for AIW soon. And that's been really fun and a nice bring me back into wrestling. Anywhere else? Your guess is as good as fucking mine, man.

I sign off at 3:24 AM unsure of myself and finding myself slowly OK with questions not having answers and things leaving themselves to make sense years from now.